Tuesday, October 27, 2015

I like to believe that I’m pretty hard to surprise. Perhaps
it’s due to an over active imagination that works right alongside an overly
anxious, that leads me down weird and winding road, where I consider even the
most preposterous of situations. Or maybe I’m just an arrogant ass. I’m not
entirely sure, but the truth is, that it’s probably some combination of the
two. But I am genuinely surprised that I am about to watch the New York Mets
and the Kansas City Royals play in the World Series.

I mean, I first started talking about the possibility of
this match up back in late April. The Mets were in the midst of what ended up
being an 11 game winning streak, and had the best record in baseball at 13-3.
The second best record belonged to the Royals, who were 12-4. And even after
last year, I was telling a buddy that the Mets were built somewhat similar to
the Royals. We had a great fielding center fielder, a superb young catcher,
some bullpen arms that throw really hard, and a homegrown vet who was the heart
and soul of the team. But the Mets and their fans, were most hopeful about the
rotation we thought we had.

Yet at the same time, a promising young rotation had
burned us before, 20 years ago with Generation K. Three pitchers who were
supposed to lead us to the promise land, and would be the foundation of a
contender for the next decade. Then the arm trouble started, and that bright
future we were promised, became the ghost story evert Met fan would one day
tell their children as a pre-cautionary tale. When Matt Harvey went from
starting the All-Star game at home to having Tommy John surgery by the end of
the year, we were all terrified of Generation K II. If Hollywood could only
serve up reboots, why shouldn’t baseball?

May and June came, and the Mets began to fade. On the 4th
of July, we were just a .500 team. The future still looked bright, but our
hitting was ridiculous. The Royals were battling for the best record in the
American League, and re-match of the 1985 World Series appeared much more
realistic than a Mets-Royals series. But baseball is a funny sport, and it’s a
long season. A month later we were back in first, and the Royals continued
marching towards October. And the “promising” rotation of the Mets was
exceeding expectations.

That’s when my wife and daughter really got nervous. When
I first mentioned the idea of the two teams playing each other in the World
Series, they kind of laughed it off. They said it sounded horrible, mostly
because they felt I would be unbearably annoying. I mean, that doesn’t sound all
that far-fetched, and a few years ago they would have been exactly right. But
as I documented last year, I really liked this Royals team.

The idea of my Mets playing their Royals sounded better
and better. They feared a “house divided” but the way I’ve looked at it is; if
the Mets are going to lose in the World Series, I’d much rather they lose to
the team my family loves. How could I really get upset at something that would
bring them so much joy? And hell, these Royals are one likable bunch. Losing to
them wouldn’t hurt nearly as much as the 2000 World Series loss to the Yankees
hurt. It wouldn’t compare to the stomach punch that was the 2006 NLCS against
the Cardinals. Seriously, still waiting on you to swing Carlos Beltran
(originally a Royal).

This is a win-win series for me. I want my Mets to win,
there’s no question. But if losing means seeing ear-to-ear smiles painted on my
wife and daughters faces, that’s pretty hard to chalk up as a loss.